Neither of the companions who had joined him in the pursuit of the man they had discovered lurking down at the river had any real understanding of what lay in the back of the gambler's mind. His outburst there had been the first volcanic rage which had lit the fires of hate now burning so deep down in his intolerant heart. That outburst they had understood. That was the man as they knew him. But this other man they knew nothing of. This was the real man who returned to his hut, silent and ghastly, with implacable hatred burning in his heart. All three had hurriedly and silently returned to the store from their futile chase. Bill offered no explanation, and his manner was so forbidding that even the intrepid Sandy had found no use for the questions he would so gladly have put. When they arrived, Scipio and Sunny, with the twins, had reached the place just before them. But they were lost sight of in the rush that was made to tell the gambler of the happenings at Sid Morton's ranch. Nor had he any choice but to listen to the luridly narrated facts. However, his choice did fall in with their desires, and, after the first brief outline, told with all the imagination this varied collection of beings was capable of, he found himself demanding, as eagerly as they were waiting to tell, every detail of the matter, and even went so far as to examine the body of the dead rancher, roughly laid out in the barn on a bed of hay. He listened almost without comment, which was unusual in him. His manner displayed no heat. He was cold, critical, and his only words were to ask sharp and definitely pointed questions. Then, having given Minky instructions for the safeguarding of the children, he departed without even mentioning his own adventure down at the river. But if he neglected to do so, it was otherwise with his friends, the other members of the Trust. The moment his back was turned they shed the story broadcast, each man competing with the other in his endeavor to make it thoroughly palatable to the sensation-loving ears of their fellow-townsmen. And probably of them all Sandy was the most successful. In half-an-hour, loyally supported by his friends, he had the whole of Suffering Creek strung to such a pitch of nervous excitement that every man was set looking to his firearms, and all talk was directed towards the most adequate means of defending their homes and property. In the briefest possible time, from a peaceful, industrious camp, Suffering Creek was transformed into a war base, every citizen stirred not only to defense of his own, but with a longing to march out to the fray, to seek these land pirates in the open and to exterminate them, as they would willingly exterminate any other vermin.